Nye's Gang
by Tanela
Summary: Nyellili puts out an ad for roommates for her Mog House. Four girls, one moogle who knows what adventures might befall them?
1. Finding Lodgers

**Chapter One: FINDING LODGERS**

"So you're both from around here?" The little Tarutaru sat on top of the table in the restaurant. She'd found that sitting in the chairs as the women she was speaking to did often meant she couldn't see a thing, and that sitting directly on the table inevitably made one the center of attention. Her head tilted to one side, as large Tarutaru heads are wont to do. She was dressed in her pretty purple gi and dark hakama that she loved to wear around town.

"Ya, born and raised Bastokan," said the Hume woman. Her manner was gruff and her hair cut very short but her appearance was neat and her posture very straight. She wore a traditional Bastokan outfit in a deep red colour and a red band around her forehead.

"Bastok is the nation to which I currently pledge my allegiance, that is true," said the Mithra, looking down at the table and not at the Tarutaru sitting in the middle of it. She was an odd sort of Mithra. She never smiled and while a look of permanent distraction was not uncharacteristic of many Mithra, her lack of eye contact seemed intense, as though she were perpetually planning something that required all of her attention and that the business of the world around her was akin to fly buzzing in importance.

"All right! I don't see why you two can't stay in my mog house here in Bastok. Just make sure Kupo doesn't get out of line when he's around." The Tarutaru hopped to her feet and made as if to jump to the floor.

The Hume and the Mithra looked at each other in surprise. The Mithra snapped her attention back to the edge of the table. The Hume woman shrugged. "Don't ya want to ask us anythin'? Ya know, like about us or somethin'? Make sure we're not gonna steal anythin' and stuff like that, Miss Nyelli, was it?"

The Tarutaru held her belly as she laughed. "Nyellili, that's my name! There's nothing to steal and Kupo would let me know if anything went wrong. Besides, I've been having trouble trying to find someone to take the place and you're the first who seemed interested. Hey," the Taru suddenly lowered her voice and brought her tiny clasped hands up in front of her face in excitement, "are you two, um, together? If it's a secret, that's okay. That's so sweet, getting a home together."

The two women repeated their look of surprise. The Mithra frowned more deeply, a thing any ordinary observer would not have thought possible, and stamped her chin forcibly down into her hand, driving her elbow onto the table, she glared across the room at the empty bar. The Hume smirked. "We've known each other since we were kids. Just friends, trying to get a break. No romance. That's really not our style."

Nyellili looked visibly disappointed as she slid off the table and on to the floor. "Oh, all right then," she said, and then trotted off with an air of finality.

"But, Miss Nyelli, don't you even want to know our names?" the Hume woman asked.

"Oh! I suppose I do need to know name-wames! How else will Kupo know who you are? Although I suppose there aren't that many Hume Mithra couples that look like you walking around." The Tarutaru chuckled gleefully, her eyes sparkling.

The Mithra continued to menace the bar, looking extremely upset or possibly extremely occupied with some unpleasant sort of planning, the tip of her tail twitching rapidly to one side of her chair. The Hume held her mirthless, crooked grin and explained in a rather patronizing manner, "My name's Ness and my friend's Danjalie. Best not to shorten it. She really doesn't approve."

"Danjalie? That's not a very Mithran name. Sounds more... San d'Orian," Nyellili pondered aloud. She looked expectantly at the Mithra who only continued to glare at nothing and twitch her tail. "All right, Ness and Dani. If you have any problems, Kupo will sort them out. I'll tell him to meet you out in front of the neighborhood as soon as I'm finished moving my things. Off to Tavnazia tonight."

"Tavn--?" Ness started, but the Nyellili had dashed out the door with a surprising burst of speed.  
Danjalie was still as a statue, but for the fierce tail lashing and, if anyone could have seen under the table, her fist tightening until the knuckles completely drained of color.

Ness stood and pushed her chair neatly in under the table. "Let's go, Dani."

The Mithra's head whipped around so quickly her short red braids flung out to the sides, the left nearly getting caught on her ear. If looks could kill, she would be the greatest assassin in Vana'diel and Ness would have crumpled to the floor instantly. For all anyone knew, that was exactly the kind of skill Danjalie was planning to master.

Ness laughed heartily. Danjalie stood with such force her chair fell to the floor behind her. She stomped out of the restaurant, her fists pulled straight down at her sides. "I. Detest. Tarutaru," she snarled through gritted teeth.

"Oh, you detest everything, sweets," Ness said, picking up the fallen chair and replacing it neatly before following her friend out of the restaurant at a leisurely pace.

* * *

"Hey, Nye! Some cute redhead Elvaan down by the Merry Minstrel is looking for you," a rosy cheeked, silver haired Tarutaru in a turban, curly-toed shoes and too much gold jewelry pronounced as she skipped, arm waving, up towards the guidestone in Upper Jeuno. 

Nyellili popped a surprised looking face up from her hiding place behind the stone. But the surprise didn't last long. A wide, not entirely innocent grin spread across her face. "Oh really?"

"Don't you do anything mean, now, Nye," the silver haired Tarutaru admonished, waggling a chubby finger.

"Mamimi, I'm shocked! Whatever are you talking about? When am I ever mean? I'd never dream of insulting a giraffe-neck, I mean, Elvaan." Nyellili pursed her lips and batted her eyelashes.

"Just to make sure, I'm coming with you to find her," said Mamimi, small, gloved hands on her round hips.

"Aww." Nyellili engaged in a full body pout, shoulders slumping dramatically. "Ruin all my fun why don't you?"

"Come on. She's cute!"

"Wait a minute! She!"

"Come on!" Mamimi grabbed Nye by the hand and dragged the other Tarutaru down the spiral steps to Jeuno's lower level.

The pair ducked and weaved through the crowd in front of Lower Jeuno's popular auction house and finally managed to squeeze their way into the adjacent tavern, the Merry Minstrel. The public house was very busy, bustling with customers and staff, line ups at the counter and a troupe of bards performing on the stage to the rhythmic clapping of their enchanted audience.

Mamimi, Nyellili's hand clutched tightly in her own, shoved and pushed her way to the bar and finally released her friend in order to hop up and grab the edge of the counter. "Excuse me," she said, pulling off an impressive chin-up in order to lift her face just above the edge of the bar. "Have you seen a redhead Elvaan lady with pigtails in here? She was looking for Nyellili the Ninja Master?" Mamimi shouted upwards.

"Pigtails! Augh!" Nye groaned from below the bar, a look of utter disgust on her face that no one could see.

The Hume bartender put down the bottle he was pouring to peer down at the tiny yelling face that was obviously straining to keep itself from falling below the counter. "Sure. Left a while ago. Said she might try the Tenshodo."

"Thank you!" Mamimi shouted, the last word becoming muffled in the legs of the crowd as she dropped back down to the floor. "To the Tenshodo!" she directed Nyellili, snatching up her friend's hand and beginning the arduous procedure of leaving the establishment.

"All right, all right! You don't have to drag me," Nyellili grumbled, pushing Mamimi's arm away as they entered the Tenshodo shop, finally finding a place in Lower Jeuno that wasn't packed to the walls with people.

At the far end of the hallway, a very tall Elvaan girl with short red hair tied back in stubby puffs at either side of her neck was looking at the back exit of the shop with a perplexed look on her face.

"Can't let her through. Not a member," the Mithra at the desk leaned down and whispered to Nyellili.

"Of course she's not. Just look at her," Nyellili snorted.

The Elvaan was dressed in a full set of matching decorative plate armor, a glimmering sword and polished shield adorned her sides.

There was a resounding slap and Nyellili wailed. "Oww! What did you do that for?" she turned and cried at her companion, clutching her wounded shoulder.

"I seem to remember telling you not to be mean." Mamimi crossed her arms in front of her chest and tapped a curly toed foot indignantly.

"But—but I just—I mean look at her!"

Mamimi lifted one hand threateningly.

"She won't have to go through anyway," the Mithra explained. "She was looking for you after all."

Beatings forgotten, Mamimi skipped forward, "Oh miss! Miss! Were you looking for Nyellili the Ninja Master? This is she?"

The Elvaan turned around smoothly, as though she could not be surprised by anything, even a glittery Tarutaru skipping towards her at top speed. "Ninja? But you appear to be a bard," the girl said in a high but steady voice.

"I'm Nyellili," Nyellili said gloomily, slouching forward.

"Are you really a ninja master?" the Elvaan girl asked.

"What? Of course I am! Well, I mean, I'm not really a master – ow!"

Mamimi poked her friend hard in the ribs. "Of course she's a master. And what great task have you come to request she complete for your noble family?"

The Elvaan smiled gently. "Actually, I'm interested in the advertisement she placed about her mog house."

"M-mog house?" Mamimi stuttered in confusion, looking from the tall Elvaan to her Tarutaru friend and back.

"Ohh, thaaat," Nyellili chuckled. She sighed with relief, rubbing her recently poked side. "Someone else got to it ahead of you."

Mamimi waved her arms, flabbergasted, and began to shout at her friend. "What do you mean you placed an ad for your mog house? That's not romantic at all! And why didn't you tell me? I could have helped! And what did I tell you about being mean?"

Nyellili rolled her eyes. "Yeahyeah, I'm sorry."

The Elvaan looked down at her feet demurely. "Oh. I apologize for wasting your time, Madam Ninja."

Mamimi gasped. "You're not just going to let her walk away like that are you?"

"Why not?"

Mamimi glared.

"Oh right. The mean thing. But I've already got two people."

"And you rent in three cities, don't you?"

"I—oh, fine. I suppose you can look after my mog house in San d'Oria, lady," Nyellili conceded with an audible harrumph.

The Elvaan clapped her hands in front of her face. "Truly? That would be perfect."

"Of course it would," Nyellili grumbled.

"Of course it would," Mamimi giggled, bowing extravagantly until her nose nearly touched her curly toes.

Nyellili turned and shuffled her way back out of the building as Mamimi skipped behind her.

"Excuse me, Nyellili Ninja Master?"

"What?" Nyellili said with a sigh, clearly not happy with having her moping interrupted.

"Don't you need to know my name?" the Elvaan asked.

"Not really, although I suppose-wose Kupo should know. All right, what is it?"

"I am Amemalie, soldier of—"

"That's great, Amemalie is all I need to know."

"Of course, lady ninja."

Nyellili didn't even turn to see the Elvaan's deep, straight-backed bow.

Mamimi skipped circles around Nyellili all the way back up to Jeuno's upper level. "Nye's got a pretty roommate! Nye's got a pretty roommate!" she sang repeatedly.

"She's not a roommate. I'm just reducing expenses."

"Sure. Why are you such a cheesehead around Elvaan anyway?"

"Because they're pompous. Their nation is a crumbling relic but they insist on proclaiming its awesomeness at every turn. And they're too tall."

"You never complain about Galka being too tall."

"Galka would be the opposite of pompous, so they're not too tall."

Mamimi blinked. "You make no sense."

"So? You make me talk to Elvaan."

"I do!" She continued to skip and sing her song. "For an Elvaan, Amemalie seemed perfectly nice, you know."

"Of course, I know," Nyellili said, face and voice both deadpan. "'Perfectly nice' is exactly the problem. Let's go. We're supposed to be off to Tavnazia by now."

Mamimi hummed a little tune.


	2. Daanja and Nessarose

**Chapter 2: DAANJA AND NESSAROSE**

Back in Bastok, Ness and Danjalie made themselves at home in their new place.

"So, what do ya think?" Ness asked, waving one arm to indicate the furnishings and space.

Danjalie took a seat in the simple wooden rocking chair near the fireplace. "It is... simple, yet immaculate. I think it shall suit us." She rocked slowly and elegantly, unmistakably layering on the Mithran feline grace, head tilted as she observed the room from her throne like vantage point.

"You're darned right it shall. Where else are we going to find a cheaper place?" Ness mused, as she set about trimming the single small plant that sat on the desk. She moved it repeatedly about the table, removed a leaf, then picked at the edge of another leaf. She just didn't seem to be able to get it the way she wanted it.

"The moogle has indicated that there is a fourth now involved in this trransaction," Danjalie purred, her eyes closing as she encountered something along the lines of contentment

"Better for us."

"Undoubtedly, but will we have to meet her? She may not meet our... expectations."

"Nyellili certainly didn't meet your expectations, but we're still here, aren't we? The moogle says she's in San d'Oria. Unless we end up there, I doubt we'll encounter her."

"But we all move about with adventuring. It irks me that we may have to request the moogle warn us of another's intrrusion, in addition to that of our... diminutive benefactress."

"She's not that benefactring. We still pay our share."

"Yes—"

Ness interrupted the Mithra before she could continue her diatribe. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, right? Right."

"Perrhaps sooner than later. Now would be a good time to be prreparing our trip to Jeuno."

Ness stood straight, looked directly at her friend and nodded. "Got some contacts to meet there. Now that we're set up, no sense waiting around."

"Quite. You arre certain the moogle said that dreadful Tarru would be in Tavnazia for a while?"

"Definitely. Don't you find that kinda odd? Tavnazia?"

"Odd? Tarutaru arre nothing but odd by nature. I can hardly expect anything less of the—"

"Diminutive benefactress?" Ness interrupted with a smirk as Danjalie paused to find her word.

Danjalie smirked back. "Prrecisely."

The pair wasa perfect match. If either of them had ever had even the tiniest inclination towards romance, it would have been exactly the sort of relationship that blossoms regardless of any degree of harsh circumstances. As it was, romance was beyond them. It was the sort of thing that never entered either of their minds, even when it was presented to them directly. Any mention of the subject or linked subjects only made them laugh cynically. Cynicism was their love and they shared it gleefully and regularly on a daily basis.

They had indeed been friends since childhood. Born Nessarose, Ness was the daughter of a minor cook who worked at the Steaming Sheep in Bastok. Ness's mother had rarely had time for her, so as a girl she had been given free reign of the streets and had banded with a small group of other children to wreak havoc and general mischief on the city's more respectable populace.

Danjalie had been one of the daughters of said respectable populace, although she had not been born in Bastok but in Kazham, and her name then had been Daanja. When she had been left at home one day while her mother was arranging whatever sort of important diplomatic contact with the President was part of the mysterious duties she engaged in for the Chieftainess, the young Mithra had entered her playroom to discover a gang of miscreants rifling through her toy collection.

Being of a certain state of mind, Danjalie's first reaction was to attempt to cast a 'bind' spell on the nearest and largest of the offending children. Daanja's mother had forbidden her from even inquiring about magic, much less practicing it, but that was the sort of thing that only served to encourage strongwilled young girls. Those who knew her mother would have likely deduced this to be a purposeful deception, but at the time Danjalie believed she was thwarting her mother. Later, she would find an opportunity to truly do so.

Ness, who had been the target of said 'bind' spell, immediately responded with one of her own. Upon seeing black magic in use -- which most of the ragamuffin breed had never even encountered before except as the grand fiction behind the multitude of adventurers that milled about their town -- the immediate reaction of the rest of the gang was fear and they stampeded to the exit, knocking each other over in their attempts to get out the door first.

The two girls finished their spells and proceeded to glare at each other over the rifled toy box.

Daanja lifted her foot first. "Didn't work," she said with that snarky tone only available to school age girls with a certain understanding of self-importance.

The child Ness mimicked the Mithra's move. "Neither did yours, so there!" She stuck out her tongue with immense impertinence.

They both screamed with the rage of battle and threw themselves at each other, proceeding to scratch and hair pull until Daanja's mother came home. The adult immediately banished Ness and set about locking Daanja in her room.

With that reaction, it was inevitable that the pair become fast friends. Ness left her gang behind and the pair began to run as a duo bringing more general, less class-related mischief to the streets of Bastok, as Danj had a knack for pointing out anyone who was good for a lark, rich or poor, local or foreign. However, their time together was limited to a few short months. Daanja's mother picked up and moved herself and her daughter to San d'Oria. Ness took well to the subsequentloneliness and never picked up her mischief skills again, although she never lost a certain rough attitude. She turned to tending to her mother and keeping house, earning a living.

Neither ever brought up the subject of their lack of fathers. With Mithra it was standard to accept the lack of male presence. With Ness, she simply never asked and never cared to ask. To many on the outside, it would seem their union as grown women was inevitable should they ever meet again.

And they did meet, as adventurers, unsurprisingly as students of black magic with their sights set on Jeuno and beyond.


	3. Robitaille

**Chapter Three: ROBITAILLE**

Robitaille was tall, dark and handsome, or at least he would have been handsome if he wasn't so scruffy. He'd grown a full beard over the last half-dozen weeks. He had his eye on a certain girl and was letting himself go over his obsession. He watched her from above as she spoke to the chocobo stablehands in Upper Jeuno. Her red hair was pulled into pig tails so tight he could clearly see the pale skin of the center parting from the distance of his vantage point.

He had followed her to Jeuno from San d'Oria on a whim. He was known for chasing pretty girls and was not unlike many young men his age in that respect. He was different in the fact that he was reluctant to let go of any prize once sighted, no matter what the situation. He didn't even know the girl, only knew that she had struck him with her innocent piety when he had seen her praying at the cathedral of Altana. He wasn't sure whether the intensity of his enchantment was due to desire to know that innocence or to destroy it. He was sure his mother had told his sister all men were out for the latter. It was the only reason he could think of that his otherwise completely self-serving sister would seek out the refuge of the church. But, in her narcissism, his sister was fiercely protective of her person.

Robitaille had wondered if this girl was the same as he had followed her out of the cathedral and heard her speak to a friend about going to Jeuno to search for some particular Tarutaru character. He had no interest in the reason for the trip, only in the destination so he might be there when she arrived tall and proud, suddenly letting down her guard when she saw him to run into his open arms—

Sometimes his fantasies ran away with him. He knew that, but he certainly didn't discourage himself from daydreaming.

He watched her discussing whatever business she had with the Hume man below and then watched as she saddled up a chocobo of her own, copper colored hair gleaming in the sunlight, offsetting the silver of her—

He startled out of his reverie. She was leaving! He hadn't even managed to convince her to run to his arms yet. He raced down the steps, slipping down three of them at a time.

"That redhead—with the pigtails—where was she going?" he demanded of the man she had been speaking with, between gasps for breath as his system tried to recover from the shock of the instant transition from mellow fantasizing to the thrill of the chase.

The man looked startled. "W-why, San d'Oria. She—"

"One of your fastest chocobos and quickly!"

"Uh, Amerine will—" he began to gesture with one hand.

"Thanks, mister," Robitaille said, straightening himself up and clapping the man on the back, before twisting away, grabbing a saddle out of the passing girl's arms and plopping it on the back of the nearest yellow bird. After a short moment struggle, he managed to mount up and dash off in pursuit of his pigtailed redhead.

The staff was still looking on in shock when he passed out of sight around the gate leaving Jeuno.

* * *

Amemalie was a little confused. She wasn't quite sure exactly what had happened that afternoo with the pair of Tarutaru women. One of them, evidently the one to whose advertisement she was responding, clearly did not approve of her for some reason. The other was the standard happy-go-lucky type of Tarutaru but needed to convince her friend. Amemalie was not used to lack of approval. She always did exactly what was expected of her.

Or at least, she had always done exactly what was expected of her until she decided to take up adventuring instead of remaining a soldier in San d'Oria. Her parents did not disapprove, at least not within her earshot, but she still had a nagging feeling at the back of her mind that she had not quite travelled the path they had set out for her.

Her chocobo moved at a decently quick pace through Jugner forest, but that didn't stop the strange Elvaan man from thrashing his mount up next to hers. "Evening ma'am," he said, giving her a curt nod as his chocobo, obviously incredibly exhausted, pulled ahead and dashed across the plank bridge across the river ahead.

'That's odd,' Amemalie thought to herself. 'I'm certain I don't know him, but he certainly looks familiar.'

* * *

Ness and Danjalie brought their chocobos past the crag of Holla at a brisk trot. They weren't so much riding leisurely as efficiently – the most distance for the least energy expenditure, the point of perfect union between two measured curves. When they had to bring their pace up short to allow some maniacal Elvaan to cut them off, while the rest of the plateau before them lay completely deserted, both their expressions demonstrated displeasure. Nessarose expressed disappointment and some aggravation while Danjalie's face held rage and a blatant desire for immediate vengeance.

"What in good gracious-" Ness said in shock.

The two women looked at each other from their now stationary chocobos and then back in the direction in which the Elvaan man was now disappearing.

"Shall we teach that ungrateful brute a lesson?" Danjalie hissed, voice dripping with venom.

"Someone should, but I think we'd be better—"

Danjalie didn't wait for Ness to complete her sentence and took off after the Elvaan at top speed.

Ness sighed and rolled her eyes. "Some days I really wonder about you," she said as she reluctantly urged her chocobo to follow her friend.

The Mithra rode like a madwoman, quickly leaving Ness behind, and closing the gap between her and the Elvaan who'd dared to offend her. Her mother had taught her to ride with a certain skill most young adventurers would take many years to learn and Danjalie could catch or pursue almost any running thing with the help of a good chocobo. She pulled up alongside the Elvaan man and glared at him intensely. He seemed to want to ignore her, but finally gave her a glance. At that moment, she pushed her chocobo ahead and cut the man off, just as he'd done to her earlier, except for the part where he was moving at a much faster pace and her movement required a dexterity and understanding of chocobo riding most would not have the skill to execute.

The man did not have time to pull his chocobo to a stop and lost his balance as the bird beneath him moved to avoid collision without its rider's permission or direction. The Elvaan hit the grassy ground and rolled perilously close to the edge of one of the many large crevasses that peppered the plateau. The chocobo he'd been riding continued to race off in the direction it had swerved, finally stopping at a distance several dozen yards away where it began diligently exploring the grass beneath a tree.

Danjalie pulled her own chocobo up over the fallen man. He looked up at her and then down the crevasse into which he'd nearly plummeted headfirst. "What in the name of all that's holy do you think you're--?" Her look of sheer malice made him lose his words. His mouth kept moving, but his mind told him that questioning this woman was likely to get him killed.

"You are San d'Orian?" she asked matter of factly, eyes still glaring although her outright snarl faded somewhat.

He stood and dusted himself off. "Of course I'm San d'Orian and you had the audacity to stop me from—"

"Quiet. What is your name?"

He blinked at her. His immediate reaction was to scream at her. Quiet? How dare this upstart feline tell him to be quiet? He needed to get to San d'Oria before the pigtailed girl so that he could have flowers ready and be on his knees ready to profess his love as she came to the gate. He needed to have her run to his arms somehow. All he knew was he needed to get to San d'Oria before she did. "Why—"

"What is your name?" Danjalie repeated, urging her chocobo forward a few steps, enough to force the man to take a step back and nudge a rock backwards into the crevasse behind him.

Ness rode up then, motioning in plea to the Mithra. "We're supposed to be—"

Danjalie lifted a hand to silence her friend, but did not redirect her attention. "What is your name?" she asked the Elvaan a third time.

He looked up at the vehement Mithra and the newly arrived Hume and then glanced backward at the crevasse on which he stood precariously. He considered approaching the Hume woman but then the Mithra's mount lifted its foot once again as though to push him even nearer to the edge. "Don't. I—My name is Robitaille, but I don't see—"

The Mithra twisted her mount away and looked down at him from the side. "I am going to ruin you," she growled and took off in the direction of Ronfaure.

The Hume woman slumped dramatically. "Man, why'd ya have to piss her off? I'd say sorry, but that was a stupid thing you did back there, cutting people off when the whole valley's open for ya? Now y've gone and made her angry." She readjusted in her saddle and sighed loudly before racing off after her friend.

"Wait! What? Argh!" He balled his hands into fists at his side. These women were going to ruin everything, and just because of some ridiculous traffic mishap. It was because they weren't Elvaan, he told himself. There was no way they could understand the passion and commitment with which he approached his life and his targets.

He chased down his chocobo, which was something he'd never had to do before always having mounted up in a stable. The chocobo seemed to take this as a game and would hop away whenever Robitaille came near. "What are you doing, you damnable bird?" he grumbled as he chased it from below one tree to the next.

Robitaille was nearly crying in frustration when Amemalie rode up. "Are you all right, sir?" she asked gently.

"I'm—what? Oh, I'm fine, thanks. I had a bit of an accident, but once I catch my chocobo, I'll be on my way," he explained softly, wiping his face with his arm to remove any visible evidence of sweat and tears. He could feel a flush come to his face in her presence.

"I'll help," she said, hopping from her chocobo. "Here, hold mine."

"That's really not necess—" he tried to stop her, but she placed her mount's reins in his hand, giving him no choice. When their fingers touched, Robitaille could have sworn he heard bells ringing in the distance.

"She's an angel," he whispered to himself.

"Hmm?" Amemalie inquired without turning around. She held a hand out towards the mischievous chocobo.

"Oh nothing," Robitaille muttered, watching in awe as the wayward bird walked right up to her and placed its beak in her outstretched hand.

She gently grabbed the rein near its cheek and pulled it over its head and led the chocobo back to its former rider. "Here you go," she said, offering him the reins.

"How did you--? I've been trying for--?"

She shrugged as she passed off one bird and retrieved the reins of her own mount from him. "They like me. They always have. It's just a gift I have, I suppose."

"You must be an excellent rider, then," he said, giving his chocobo a quick glare then watching as she mounted up in one graceful movement.

"Not really. I'm just not very frightening," she explained with a laugh.

'She laughs like an angel,' he thought to himself, almost in tears again with the nearness of her presence. She began to move away. He called to her, still not having mounted up himself. "Wait! I don't even know your name."

She laughed again and rode away. He continued to watch her, awestruck, as she rode off into the distance. His jaw was still slack when it occurred to him she had implied he was frightening.

His brow folded and his open mouth snapped shut. 'Frightening? She thinks I'm frightening? This is no good.' He finally bothered to turn to his chocobo and mount up. It pranced beneath him, paying little attention to his commands, but he was obviously distracted. He kicked in the right direction and ignored its little misbehaviors.

She thought he was frightening. He would have to fix that. After all, she couldn't know what frightening was if she had never met that Mithra. And that Mithra could handle a chocobo better than even the best San d'Orian cavalrymen and was also more frightening than any enemy any cavalryman had ever had to face, Robitaille was certain.


End file.
